


sometimes you've gotta bleed to know (that you're alive and have a soul)

by middle_earthling



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Bones is So Done, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jim and Bones get up to a lot of shit and become friends through it, Jim is a Little Shit, Past Child Abuse, Pre-Movie(s), Really this is the story of Jim and Bones doing stuff they shouldn't and bonding, mentions of Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:52:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7866349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middle_earthling/pseuds/middle_earthling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times Bones met Jim accidentally + 1 time he sought the kid out. </p><p>(Or, the story of how an epic friendship begins).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Leonard McCoy groans as he gets up from his uncomfortable plastic desk chair, placing his barely warm cup of replicator-made coffee on his cluttered desk. It's only his second day at Starfleet Academy, and already they've put him to work as a doctor at the campus clinic, handling the physicals of other new cadets. McCoy thought that the only thing more boring than looking through the medical records of cocky, self assured kids before giving them flu shots and having to put up with their whining, would be watching grass grow though the cracks in old bricks. Now, he suspects maybe even that might be more fun.

He had been a well respected trauma surgeon, in a proper hospital, for God’s sake! And now he is just a lowly cadet, giving bratty kids hypos in some clinic, just so he'd be able to work on some God-forsaken starship. He hated flying, and space, and anything involved with it. Why the hell had he done this to himself? 

Oh yeah, that's right. Because he has nothing left, nothing else he could do, thanks to his lovely, ever so faithful, ex wife. 

But this is no time to wallow in self pity, he has more pressing matters to attend to. Like doing his 12th physical of the day. He can't think of a single thing he'd rather be doing.

Leonard shakes himself out of his internal grumbling, grabs his PADD from his desk, puts on his professional face (a simple swap from 'angry death glare' to 'what do you want from me' glare), and walks out the sliding glass doors that let him into the patient waiting room. 

"James Kirk?" he calls, reading the name from his list of appointments for the day.

"That's me!" replies a golden haired boy, who was oddly familiar, and wearing one of the obnoxiously red cadet uniforms. 

"Follow me, then,” McCoy grunts. 

"Lead on, sunshine," says the kid, a cocky half-smirk falling into place. 

McCoy leads Kirk down a white hallway, and turns into an examination room with a biobed, which McCoy instructs Kirk to sit on, a desk, and a bunch of random medical equipment and supplies. 

"So, I'm Doctor McCoy and I'll be doing your physical today," McCoy says.

"I know who you are, Bones," replies the kid, his smirk growing wider. 

"Bones?" McCoy questions, before realization dawns on him. "Oh good god, you're the kid from the shuttle." 

"Got it in one, Bonesy." 

"Please stop calling me that,” McCoy snaps. 

"Sure thing, Bones," Kirk responds.

McCoy doesn't even bother replying, just sighs, rolls his eyes, and gives in to putting up with this kid and his stupid nicknames for the next half hour or so. 

"Anyways," he continues, glaring at the kid when he makes a face like he wants to continue their previous line of conversation, "I'm your doctor. Today anyways, and you're here for a physical. So that is what we are going to do."

"Are we really though, Bonesy? Are you sure you wouldn't rather do something a little more uh... physical?" the kid says, even going so far as to wink salaciously. The smug little bastard. 

"No," says McCoy firmly, his eyebrows drawing together, giving him the appearance of a disgruntled owl. 

“Aw, come on, live a little," replies Kirk, his eyes sparkling with evident mirth. 

"Kid, I'm a doctor, not a back alley hooker, and this is an appointment. Now shut up, sit down, and let me read your goddamn file." 

Apparently, even McCoy's legendary grumpy face isn't enough to dampen Kirk's spirits even slightly, but he sits down on the edge of the biobed anyways, and swings his legs back and forth like a bored and petulant toddler, his eyes still glimmering cheekily.

McCoy takes this in, sighing deeply through his nose and attempting to put his professional face back on. 

"So, your name is James Tiberius Kirk and you were born on the fourth of January, 2233, correct?" 

"Yep," replies Kirk, popping the 'p'. "Although I'd rather that the Tiberius part stayed between us... and you can call me Jim."

"And you're... oh," McCoy pauses in his readings, noticing just where the file said Kirk was born. 

"The Kelvin baby? Yeah, I am. Most people put that together as soon as they hear my last name," says Jim, his tone joking, but his eyes saying something else. 

"I don't spend my time prying into other peoples business, kid, I really don't care where you were born or just who your daddy is," says McCoy flatly, continuing to scan through Jim's (surprisingly long, yet suspiciously incomplete) file. 

"Huh," is all Jim says to that. 

For a few minutes, everything is quiet, and McCoy reads Jim's file, his frown deepening with every line. 

"Jesus Christ, kid, what aren't you allergic to?" he says as he looks at the long list of drugs and food items the kid can't go near without fear of death  
.  
Jim pretends to think for a minute. "Hm... sex and alcohol, thank God," he says, after a minute, his face deadly serious, before breaking into a grin again. 

McCoy pretends he didn't hear this, and keeps reading. "Do you have any idea why parts of your medical records are missing? There aren't even records of your teenage vaccines!"

"Oh, uh, I was off planet for a while, so I guess they didn't get transferred?" Jim sounds oddly awkward now, considering how confident he'd been a few minutes ago. 

"They should've been... but seeing as they're not here now, I'll need you to tell me. Did you even get your vaccines?" McCoy asks, his brow still furrowed in confusion. The parts that are blank don't look like they're just missed appointments or notes that didn't send, they look like they were erased from the file after they'd been put in.

"Uh, yeah, I think so. I was in the hospital at one point and they jabbed me with so many hypos, I'm sure some of them were vaccines."

"Then why aren't they recorded?" 

"I don't know, I told you, I guess they didn't get transferred or something," Jim said, his already monumental defensiveness mounting further.

"Hmm," McCoy grunts in response, still reading and trying to understand what sort of a life the confusing mess of a file was showing him. "How did you break so many bones?" 

"I was a clumsy kid," Jim says, easily. 

McCoy raises an eyebrow, having heard that excuse a lot of times, but lets the obvious evasion slide, anyways. He finishes with the file, and marks down in his own notes, the things that may effect Jim's career in Starfleet. 

"So there's nothing there that would stop you, as long as you've got some sort of control on your allergies?" 

"I don't let people drug me with stuff unless I know what is is, and I know what I can or can't eat," says Jim, his eyes daring McCoy to say anything else on the subject. 

"All right, that parts all fine then. Now I need you to take your shirt off and sit up straight for me." 

"Why?" 

"Because this is the part where a 'physical' gets its name from," says McCoy, one eyebrow again raising slightly. 

"Are you sure that isn't just an excuse to see me naked?" 

“If I wanted to see you naked, I’d have taken you to a four-star restaurant, not my day job.” replied McCoy, that same eyebrow still raised, in its sarcastic way. 

"Oooh, is that an invitation? ‘Cause I won’t turn down a free lunch,” says Jim, still doing nothing to obey McCoy's request. 

"Just strip, you infant." 

"I'll have you know that this body is far too hot for an infant," says Jim, finally acquiescing and taking his shirt off with a flourish, revealing pale skin with freckled shoulders, lightly defined abs, and several faint scars on his left side that look like they wrap around to his back. 

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" McCoy raises his eyebrow again. 

"You wound me Bones, you wound me," Jim says, his ridiculously blue eyes going wide in feigned hurt, raising his hands to cover his heart. 

“Yeah, yeah," McCoy replies, grabbing a tricorder of a desk in the corner of the room and scanning Jim with it. 

The little machine beeps, and McCoy studies the readings. Apparently, Jim is currently healthy, aside from the still black eye, but his body shows signs of malnutrition at integral growing stages and there are signs of badly healed injuries, broken bones and cuts that were left too long. 

Once again, the surly doctors eyebrows furrow, but he doesn't say anything. 

"What, is it telling you I'm too hot to be allowed?" Jim asks teasingly, this time raising his own eyebrow. 

"No, it's telling me your a damn jackass," replies McCoy. 

"Words can hurt, Bones," Jim says chidingly, smirking again. 

"My name is Leonard McCoy, damn it!" 

"I know it is, Bones." 

McCoy sighs exasperatedly, and rolls his eyes. "Now I've just got to take a look at you and then we're done." 

"I knew you just wanted me for my body!" 

"Shut up, kid," McCoy has Jim stand up, and when he does he sees the scars he notices earlier do in fact spread around to his back, and there are several others on his back as well, some of which look like they were once badly infected. Then he does another once over with the tricorder, takes a not of Jim's height and weight, and then they're finished.

"You're free to go, cadet," McCoy says. 

"Thanks, Bonesy!" Jim calls over his shoulder as he leaves the room as fast as he can without it looking suspicious. 

McCoy finds he can only shake his head and wonder whether he'll see the cocky blonde with the mysterious records again. He's not entirely sure he wants to.


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks after his second meeting with the anomaly that is James T. Kirk, Leonard McCoy has not seen a trace of the annoying blond cadet since his physical, and, despite some initial concern over the obvious forgeries in his file and a few other odd details, McCoy has not thought about Kirk since, either... Until, that is, he hears a strange, cut off noise coming from the dark alleyway between the Starfleet Academy clinic and the administration building, as he walks back to his dorm from his late shift at the clinic.

McCoy pauses, and turns to face the alley, listening for the noise again. A few seconds go by, and nothing happens, but just as he's about to dismiss it as a stray cat or something, the sound of something metal scraping a wall rings out through the otherwise quiet night, closely followed by the same noise of earlier, which McCoy now recognises as a rather human sounding grunt. 

The rational part of his brain tells him to walk away, quickly... but the doctor part of his brain tells him to go to the source of the noise, see what's happening, and if someone is in trouble, as his gut feeling is telling him, see if he can help. 

So, telling the rational part of his brain that it can shut up, and knowing he will most likely regret this... McCoy pulls his communicator out of his pocket, turns on its emergency light, and hurries into the alleyway. 

The grunting noise comes again, and McCoy walks quicker, sure now that what he is hearing is the sound of an injured human, although he still has no idea what in God's name the loud scraping noise had been (he’s not entirely sure he wants to know). 

Five feet into the alley, McCoy's light falls on the shape of a human male kneeling on the ground, his back turned to the entrance of the alley, one arm held awkwardly in front of him, and the other holding onto the bottom of what looks like an old, metal ladder. 

The guy is dressed in dark jeans and a black sweater, clearly trying to blend into the night time, but if he's a criminal... then he's gotta be the worst criminal McCoy has ever seen, because he's got nothing covering his head, and his golden hair shines like a beacon in the dim light McCoy's communicator provides. 

"Hey, you," says McCoy, loudly enough for the guy to hear him but not loud enough to startle him, hopefully, as McCoy has no idea whether this guy is armed, or what the hell he's up to. 

The man's head snaps to the side and shit, that's not some random criminal, that's James God damn Kirk, and McCoy was right, he is injured, because as soon as McCoy can see part of his face, he can already see the dark bruise under one eye, and the blood under his nose. 

"Bones?" says Kirk, bloodied nose wrinkling in confusion, and good, that means it's not broken, one less thing to worry about, McCoy notes. "What are you doing here?"

"My name's still Leonard McCoy, kid, and I could ask you the same damn thing," replies McCoy. 

"Oh well... see, I was just, uh... taking a nice night time stroll, you see," Jim says. 

"Uh huh, and while you were on this nice stroll... did you just happen to get on the wrong side of a brick wall?" asks McCoy.

"Something like that," answers Kirk, grimacing as he tries to get to his feet, keeping one hand on the metal ladder, which, despite wobbling dangerously, appears to be the only thing keeping Kirk steady.

Once Kirk is on his feet, McCoy can see the entirety of his face, and it is not a pretty sight. Blood is dried under his nose, one eye so darkly bruised it makes Kirk look like a panda, his bottom lip is split and there are several greenish bruises on his left cheek that look much older than the rest of the injuries, but to new to be remnants of the fight McCoy knows he had gotten into just before he enlisted.

And that’s just Kirk's face. One of the sleeves of his jacket is torn, the side of his clothes completely covered in dust and a bit of gravel, the knee of his pants leg ripped, and not in a fashionable way... and then there's his left arm, which is still being cradled tightly to Jim’s chest. One of the fingers on that hand looks broken, and McCoy is willing to bet the arm is, too.

"Jesus kid, you look like you went ten rounds with an angry momma gorn," says McCoy, his eyebrow raised as he takes in Jim's state. 

"Nah, just eight," replies Kirk, smirking a little, though tight pain lines around his eyes somewhat ruin the effect. 

"Well, whatever happened, you look like you need a doctor... so you're damn lucky I found you. Now come on, the clinic's just up there," says McCoy, beginning to turn around and head back the way he had come from. 

"I'm fine, I'll just... head back to my dorm and get some sleep," Kirk says, showing no sign of letting go of his ladder, which he had yet to explain the presence of. 

"Your arm is probably broken, you don't look like you can stand on your own, and you clearly can’t look after yourself. You're coming with me," says McCoy in his best no nonsense doctor voice. 

"I think it's just sprained, I'm fine, go on home, Bones," replies Jim firmly. 

"I'm not just gonna leave you in some dark alley at some ungodly hour when you are clearly injured, and I have the ability to treat you, so stop acting like a damn mule and come with me," McCoy’s tone leaves absolutely no room for argument, and he even goes so far as to take Kirks' uninjured arm in his own hand and attempt to drag him forward. 

Unable to remain where he is, Jim lets go of the ladder, which topples backwards with a loud, clanging crash, and follows McCoy out of the alley and into the orange glow of the streetlight filled academy grounds. 

Knowing that Kirk will put up a fight and likely try and bolt if he takes him straight to the clinic, McCoy leads Kirk to a bench on the edge of the pathway, and instructs him to sit down, which he does, albeit grudgingly and not without a few complaints about being fine. 

McCoy sits beside Kirk and takes a tricorder from his bag. 

"Why do you just happen to have a tricorder on you?" asks Jim.

"I'm a doctor, I'm always prepared," says McCoy.

"I'm pretty sure that’s boy scouts, actually," replies Jim, his usual grin returning.

McCoy ignores him and instead begins to scan him with the tricorder, which starts beeping immediately, confirming what he already thought. Hairline fracture to the left arm, broken pinkie finger, bruises all over and a couple of cuts, too. 

"I was right, your arm is broken, and that means you need an osteo-regenerator, not exactly something you can just sleep off." 

"I... oh," says Jim, not able to come up with a reply that'll get him out of a visit to the clinic. 

"Oh is right, now come on, we're going in whether you like it or not. And while I'm patching you up, you're gonna tell me the story of what exactly you were doing and why I need to set a broken arm at..." McCoy looks at his tricorder, which helpfully displays the date and time, "1:30 in the God damn morning." 

"I told you, I was just taking a walk and then I... tripped." 

"Oh sure, some 'trip' you had there." 

Kirk looks around, as if to make sure they're alone, and then says quietly "Fine, I'll tell you, but you better not make a damn note of this." 

"Fine, no notes, but I deserve the story." 

"Fine." 

*

McCoy manages to wrangle Kirk into a consultation room in the empty clinic with minimal fuss, and he immediately begins setting up an osteo regenerator and getting out the supplies he needs to treat cuts. 

Jim sits on the bio-bed, hunched over with his left arm still held close to his chest. 

“Alright kid, fixing time and story time can happen together,” McCoy says as he sits down beside Kirk on the bed, and attaches the portable regenerator to the kid’s left arm. “This is gonna burn while it works, do you want a pain killer before I start this thing up?” 

“No, I’m allergic to pretty much anything you’ll have handy. It’s fine, I’m a big boy, I can handle a little pain.”

“Suit yourself, kid.” With that, McCoy sets the regenerator to the right setting and turns it on. “Alright, I’ve done my half of the deal. Off you go with your story.”  
Jim settles himself down on the bio-bed a little more comfortably and begins his story. 

“Well, it all started when I found out that Captain Pike had gone on a diplomatic mission and that no one was going to be in or even near his office for the next few days…”

“Wait, wait, wait,” McCoy interrupts Jim’s story. “You’re telling me you were trying to break into a Captain’s office? What for?” 

“Well you would find out if you let me speak, Bonesy,” Jim says with an upward quirk of his lips. “As I was saying, Pike’s office would be totally empty. Now, you might wonder why on earth that mattered to me and exactly what kind of idiot would break into a captain’s office…” 

“Stole the words right out of my mouth.” 

Jim lifted an unimpressed eyebrow in McCoy’s direction. “Well, this kind of idiot. You see, Captain Pike and I are tight. Best buds. Total bros. He loves me, really, he does. I know he does. And I figured, what better way to showcase our friendship than starting an epic prank war?” 

McCoy puts his face in his hands. “Oh God, kid. What is wrong with you?” 

“Nothing! A prank war is always an excellent idea.” 

“It’s really not. Especially not with your commanding officer when you’re a brand-new cadet. Are you looking to get kicked out before your first term is over?”

“Captain Pike would never kick me out. Plus, I’ve totally got Archer on my side as well. I looked after his dog last week and he loves me for it.” 

“You looked after Admiral Archer’s dog? What? Why? Actually, never mind. I feel like that’s gonna be a whole story for another time.” 

Kirk clears his throat. “Anyways, as I was saying. A prank war is always an excellent idea, and what better time to start one than when someone is away, leaving their space open to play? So, earlier today I went and borrowed a ladder, a bucket and some string from the survival class and planned my little heist.” 

“A bucket and some string? Are you kidding me? You risked your entire career just to pour a bucket of water on someone’s head?” 

“Hey! It was water with purple dye in it, for your information, and, it’s a classic prank you have to admit.” 

McCoy covers his face with his hands and lets out a long groan. “I regret helping you.” 

“You’re the one who asked for my story!” 

“I regret that too.” 

“Aw, you really know how to make a guy feel loved, Bones,” Jim says, grinning. 

“I hope that regenerator is really hurting right now,” says McCoy. 

Jim just continues to smile. 

“Anyways, that doesn’t explain how you got so beaten up.”

“Oh, right. Well, I waited till night fall, and snuck out here and broke into Pike’s office, and set up my prank. Everything was going great but I hadn’t secured the ladder properly I guess, because when I started climbing back down it toppled over and I fell and broke my arm.”

“Ouch. I’m surprised you didn’t break your neck, stupid stunt like that.” 

“What can I say, I’m a lucky guy,” Kirk says with a wink. 

“Okay that explains the broken arm and the scrapes but how did you get a black eye? Did the ladder punch you in the face?”

“Oh, no, that was from training earlier this morning. I pissed off my cadet supervisor. I guess he really, really doesn’t like being called cupcake.” 

“Why do you love antagonising your superior officers so much?” 

“Well, Cupcake is an exception, and Pike and I are tight.” 

“So you keep saying,” McCoy says with a raised eyebrow. “When Pike gets back, and you get expelled, don’t come crying to me about it, kid.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about me, Bones. In fact, you’re invited to come get celebratory drinks with me when Pike inevitably compliments me on a prank well done and then pranks me back.” 

“The last thing I ever want to do is get drinks with you, kid. Plus, I think you stand a better chance at making a Vulcan laugh then getting Pike to compliment you on your prank.” 

“Bones, you wound me.” 

McCoy just raises an eyebrow at the kid. Just then, the osteo-regenerator beeps, signalling that its job is finished. 

“All right kid, you’re all done here. Go back to your dorm, get some sleep, and for the love of god, don’t break in to any more captain’s offices tonight,” McCoy says. 

“Thanks Bones, and I can’t promise anything,” Jim says with a grin, before hopping off the bio-bed. “See you around!” he throws over his shoulder before he’s out the door. 

“Idiot,” McCoy says to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. It's been two years since I posted the first chapter of this story. This chapter has been sitting, half written, on my computer ever since. I always meant to post it, and I always meant to continue this story, but I just lost where I was going with it and got into a writing funk. I haven't posted anything since the first chapter of this story, actually. 
> 
> But, two years later, and this chapter is finally done! I'm hoping I'll get chapter three out much quicker than chapter two.   
> Also, yes, I do realize this chapter is very strange and probably very crack-y but this story is primarily the story of two idiots becoming friends by being idiots. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> This was literally written because I loved Beyond so so so much, but I felt like Jim and Bones didn't really get enough emphasis on their friendship... actually I felt Jim was a little left out of the bonding times. I mean, look at Spock and Bones in that movie. Wow. 
> 
> So... there'll be 5 more chapters and I'm really excited to write this because I haven't written a Trek fic since Into Darkness and I was like, 13 at the time, so it was total and utter shit but I feel like my writing has gotten better and my understanding of the Trek universe is a lot better and my love for the characters is a lot bigger, plus I have 4 years of reading Trek fic under my belt now, too, so... here's to hoping this one's better? 
> 
> Thanks! :D Another chapter to come soon. xx <3


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